I went to the doctor today. That in and of itself isn't unusual but, I had the dreaded over 50 year old colonoscopy done. The procedure itself wasn't too bad but, the preparation was horrible. The doctor gave me a prescription for this stuff called PEG 3350 and electrolytes. The idea is to mix this powder with 4 liters of water and drink the solution the night before the procedure. The prep sheet they gave me laughably calls it GoLytely prep. The official name for the procedure is a Flexible Sigmoidoscopy. Funny name... wonder who Sigmoid was.
Well the first hurdle was to drink 4 liters of stuff that tastes an awful lot like sweat every 15- 20 minutes until it's all gone. The doctor told me to mix some crystal light with it to help the taste. Well, we did that. It made the concoction taste like lemon flavored sweat. The doctor thought that was funny. Thanks Doctor...
Well, I made it through 2 thirds of this stuff when I felt my bowels twisting around like a gator latched onto a dead chicken. The rumbling started before the real fireworks did. Kind of like the way an earthquake rumbles in the distance before the house shakes? Well that's what happened and boy did the toilet bowl shake! For one reason or another I have had bouts of shall we say... loose stools before. That doesn't even come close to describing the following 2 and a half hours of reverse Mount Vesuvius volcanic like eruptions from my bum. It's a good thing the bowl is bolted to the floor. I would not want to be responsible for the resulting melee had it not. Well, the eruptions finally subsided and I cleaned up the bathroom to keep from grossing my dearly beloved spouse out. I had no idea that would happen. Whew! I took a shower and went to bed not knowing what lie ahead for the night. Thankfully, the night passed- pun intended- without so much as a little hiss or gurgle. The next morning had only a few short relapses of the hugely successful galloping trots.
At 09:30 the next day I was scheduled to have the procedure done. I waited for a little while reading the newspaper in the waiting area. The nurse finally showed me into what she said was my own private bathroom. I was instructed to remove my shoes, pants and underwear then put a hospital gown over my shirt. She then showed me the torture table where I was to be subjected to humiliation and indescribable ritualistic trauma. When I was properly attired I was to climb up the stairs yes, stairs to the table and arrange myself to be able to watch the TV monitor which would show myself and the watching world my colon in full living color. As I timidly removed my clothing I couldn't help but to recall how humiliating and painful it was to have a catheter inserted into my manhood last year. Pushing all my great fears aside, I put the gown on and climbed the gallows stairs to lay on the torture table.
The doctor and nurse entered the room. This is where it gets a little embarrassing. The doctor told me to lay on my left side and bring my knees up toward my chest. He then stuck his finger in my posterior with an anesthetic to numb the opening. I'm glad he did. After a minute, he put the camera in and began the process of shoving 1,000 feet of Flexible Sigmoidoscope up my butt. All while I watched the incredible journey on widescreen HDTV. It even had dolby digital surround sound. The gurgly sucking noises the machine made are now permanently etched into my brain. The really weird part was how I could feel the tube going in one end and flopping around inside my left side. I told the doctor I felt it and he said one of these days he was going to turn the lights in the room off so the patients can see the light of the scope under their skin. I laughed then he said he'd probably do that on his last day working for Beaver. I told him he was going to go out in a flash. He liked that idea. Now, I'm sure that they have seen it all in that room and the sight of someone's bowels on display doesn't even cause them to bat an eye anymore. I have to say however, the topic of conversation can be a bit strange to the uninitiated. He was chatting with the nurse about of all things some brownies his wife had baked that morning for her class and how the dog had eaten some of them. I was amused too but the story was rather strange, brownies while digging around in my derriere. Yuck... He finally reached the end of the 20,000 feet of scope and began pulling it back out. Actually he said something about a wimp when I complained about the scope hitting the back of my teeth. I didn't mind the tapping so much but, the light shining between my teeth made the TV hard to see. Then he began the process of removing the Flexible Sigmoidoscope. The removal went off without a hitch, thank God, I began to wonder what would happen if the thing somehow became permanently knotted up or undone inside my large intestine. Where would they enter my body to get it out? The things one thinks of while being scoped in the Beaver House of Horrors. After he said to have a good day, I climbed down the stairs from the torture table and went into my own private bathroom.
This is where it gets really embarrassing. One thing they don't tell you about is the amount of gas your going to have when it's all said and done. Now we've all heard the old boat whistles in old movies or, the diesel truck horns on the highway? Well let me tell you, I could have played the Battle Hymn of the Republic in three languages! Then got through the 1812 Overture finale IN RUSSIAN without missing a beat! The really embarrassing part was I could hear people talking next door and, I KNOW they could hear me. The sound of the escaping gas reverberated with all the timidness and effrontery of a nuclear blast over White Sands New Mexico. I'm sure the bowls they installed are of industrial strength quality. Otherwise, I would have been spending the rest of my day in the emergency room trying to explain to an ER tech who is hysterically laughing his donkey off what happened. I spent probably 20 minutes on the pot at the clinic before I was confident enough to put my underwear and pants back on. All this time I could just imagine the comments that were whispered next door. "Oh! How disgusting!"and "I hope he cleans up after himself."
I showed up a wide eyed and fresh faced young... well ok, old guy. I left a sullen shell of my former self that was afraid to fart for fear of repeating the former evening's entertainment. I called Tammy and went to Burger Town for a sausage and egg burrito. That was my treat for being a good boy. The gas attack has tapered off some. Tammy is grateful for that but, I'm still hearing sounds in my gut that are reminiscent of a Panzer division roaring through a drain pipe but that should go away soon.
Now for the good news. The doctor said my colon looked normal and we'd get to have the fun all over again in 5 years. The truth is, this procedure was very easy and I would suggest that anyone who is putting it off, don't. The worst part is the prep; the rest is easy. I just wish those Panzer tanks were quieter.
Dave Barry wrote a really funny story about his experience with colonoscopy. Click here to read it.
Now until next time I am truly your humble servant....
....ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR me Hearties!!!!
Yep, Old Guys Still Rule!!!
Well the first hurdle was to drink 4 liters of stuff that tastes an awful lot like sweat every 15- 20 minutes until it's all gone. The doctor told me to mix some crystal light with it to help the taste. Well, we did that. It made the concoction taste like lemon flavored sweat. The doctor thought that was funny. Thanks Doctor...
Well, I made it through 2 thirds of this stuff when I felt my bowels twisting around like a gator latched onto a dead chicken. The rumbling started before the real fireworks did. Kind of like the way an earthquake rumbles in the distance before the house shakes? Well that's what happened and boy did the toilet bowl shake! For one reason or another I have had bouts of shall we say... loose stools before. That doesn't even come close to describing the following 2 and a half hours of reverse Mount Vesuvius volcanic like eruptions from my bum. It's a good thing the bowl is bolted to the floor. I would not want to be responsible for the resulting melee had it not. Well, the eruptions finally subsided and I cleaned up the bathroom to keep from grossing my dearly beloved spouse out. I had no idea that would happen. Whew! I took a shower and went to bed not knowing what lie ahead for the night. Thankfully, the night passed- pun intended- without so much as a little hiss or gurgle. The next morning had only a few short relapses of the hugely successful galloping trots.
At 09:30 the next day I was scheduled to have the procedure done. I waited for a little while reading the newspaper in the waiting area. The nurse finally showed me into what she said was my own private bathroom. I was instructed to remove my shoes, pants and underwear then put a hospital gown over my shirt. She then showed me the torture table where I was to be subjected to humiliation and indescribable ritualistic trauma. When I was properly attired I was to climb up the stairs yes, stairs to the table and arrange myself to be able to watch the TV monitor which would show myself and the watching world my colon in full living color. As I timidly removed my clothing I couldn't help but to recall how humiliating and painful it was to have a catheter inserted into my manhood last year. Pushing all my great fears aside, I put the gown on and climbed the gallows stairs to lay on the torture table.
The doctor and nurse entered the room. This is where it gets a little embarrassing. The doctor told me to lay on my left side and bring my knees up toward my chest. He then stuck his finger in my posterior with an anesthetic to numb the opening. I'm glad he did. After a minute, he put the camera in and began the process of shoving 1,000 feet of Flexible Sigmoidoscope up my butt. All while I watched the incredible journey on widescreen HDTV. It even had dolby digital surround sound. The gurgly sucking noises the machine made are now permanently etched into my brain. The really weird part was how I could feel the tube going in one end and flopping around inside my left side. I told the doctor I felt it and he said one of these days he was going to turn the lights in the room off so the patients can see the light of the scope under their skin. I laughed then he said he'd probably do that on his last day working for Beaver. I told him he was going to go out in a flash. He liked that idea. Now, I'm sure that they have seen it all in that room and the sight of someone's bowels on display doesn't even cause them to bat an eye anymore. I have to say however, the topic of conversation can be a bit strange to the uninitiated. He was chatting with the nurse about of all things some brownies his wife had baked that morning for her class and how the dog had eaten some of them. I was amused too but the story was rather strange, brownies while digging around in my derriere. Yuck... He finally reached the end of the 20,000 feet of scope and began pulling it back out. Actually he said something about a wimp when I complained about the scope hitting the back of my teeth. I didn't mind the tapping so much but, the light shining between my teeth made the TV hard to see. Then he began the process of removing the Flexible Sigmoidoscope. The removal went off without a hitch, thank God, I began to wonder what would happen if the thing somehow became permanently knotted up or undone inside my large intestine. Where would they enter my body to get it out? The things one thinks of while being scoped in the Beaver House of Horrors. After he said to have a good day, I climbed down the stairs from the torture table and went into my own private bathroom.
This is where it gets really embarrassing. One thing they don't tell you about is the amount of gas your going to have when it's all said and done. Now we've all heard the old boat whistles in old movies or, the diesel truck horns on the highway? Well let me tell you, I could have played the Battle Hymn of the Republic in three languages! Then got through the 1812 Overture finale IN RUSSIAN without missing a beat! The really embarrassing part was I could hear people talking next door and, I KNOW they could hear me. The sound of the escaping gas reverberated with all the timidness and effrontery of a nuclear blast over White Sands New Mexico. I'm sure the bowls they installed are of industrial strength quality. Otherwise, I would have been spending the rest of my day in the emergency room trying to explain to an ER tech who is hysterically laughing his donkey off what happened. I spent probably 20 minutes on the pot at the clinic before I was confident enough to put my underwear and pants back on. All this time I could just imagine the comments that were whispered next door. "Oh! How disgusting!"and "I hope he cleans up after himself."
I showed up a wide eyed and fresh faced young... well ok, old guy. I left a sullen shell of my former self that was afraid to fart for fear of repeating the former evening's entertainment. I called Tammy and went to Burger Town for a sausage and egg burrito. That was my treat for being a good boy. The gas attack has tapered off some. Tammy is grateful for that but, I'm still hearing sounds in my gut that are reminiscent of a Panzer division roaring through a drain pipe but that should go away soon.
Now for the good news. The doctor said my colon looked normal and we'd get to have the fun all over again in 5 years. The truth is, this procedure was very easy and I would suggest that anyone who is putting it off, don't. The worst part is the prep; the rest is easy. I just wish those Panzer tanks were quieter.
Dave Barry wrote a really funny story about his experience with colonoscopy. Click here to read it.
Now until next time I am truly your humble servant....
....ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR me Hearties!!!!
Yep, Old Guys Still Rule!!!
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2 comments:
Makes me want to have a colonoscopy....not really. Your story reminds me of the gassy elevator fiasco :)
I wondered if someone would remember that!
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